


To Bathe a Dragon

by AymericHugger (HunterTala)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Sex, Chases, Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Erotic Bathing, Estinien is a dirty dirty man and the WoL must do his duty to Ishgard, Feral Behavior, Hair-pulling, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Nidstinien-mentioned, Nipple Play, Shameless Smut, throat kink, tongue play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26073502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterTala/pseuds/AymericHugger
Summary: The matter of Estinien's continued denial to bathe has become enough of an issue that the people of Ishgard have to ask for help from the one person capable of making the dragoon do anything nowadays.
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Kudos: 33





	To Bathe a Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to say really, this was just pure self indulgence.

Some neighborhoods had feral cats, others had rat infestations; Ishgard had feral dragoons. It was coming to the attention of the citizens that a particularly odorous pest had taken residence on their rooftops. One Estinien Wyrmblood and his supposed allergy to bathing rituals that exceeded even the reluctance to wash of the average Ishgardian was normally not noticeable but since he’d returned to the city state after his sojourn hunting Ascians, the problem was growing exponentially. Enough that a committee was formed to confront him about it. They returned with scratches and bruises that would not have looked out of place on a chocobo tamer. 

Eventually the issue was brought to the attention of Lord Commander Aymeric, who then redirected the concern to the one person he knew capable of handling the stinky Estinien issue. Within the week the Warrior of Light was seen at the gates to Ishgard, freshly arrived from a harrowing conclusion to an ill fated adventure on the First and stronger than ever. The xaela took one look at the rooftops, specifically at the blob of red he could see on the tallest spire and with a flash of light he had a lance in his hand and was rocketing into the skies. The committee patted themselves on the back for fixing one of Ishgard’s most ardent problems and returned to their homes for well deserved rest. 

Oma’ya alighted softly in front of Estinien, foot perched precariously on the very tip of a tower roof, contemplating the elezen in front of him. His keen nose wrinkled. The scent was indeed pungent. Estinien was reclined in his full armor, lance at his side and arms pillowing his head, seemingly without a care in the world. Oma’ya’s blood heated with the prospect of the hunt. 

“Well, will you come quietly or shall we make it harder for ourselves,” he murmured. 

Estinien cracked an eye open to give Oma’ya a positively lustful onceover, taking in the elaborate armor that clung tightly to his well muscled thighs and the swell of his chest. He settled back into his position. 

“That’s no way to greet the man who saved your life, Warrior,” he quipped. 

Estinien seemed to sense when Oma’ya’s foot shifted since he immediately grabbed his lance and shot off the roof before the Au Ra could even prep a stance. Oma’ya’s pupils dilated to their maximum width, tracking the graceful fall of the former azure dragoon before he too dove off the edge of the cathedral spire. 

The chase was a quick one that took both of them all over the city, making full use of their ability as dragoons to fly through the air with ease. But Oma’ya was not the savior of worlds for nothing and his predatory instinct as an Au Ra overcame Estinien’s basic draconian instincts inherited from the time he merged with Nidhogg. Oma’ya paused on the roof of Fortemps manor, waiting, calculating, before launching himself at Estinien hurling the elezen to the ground before he could leap away. Not unlike a caracal striking a sparrow from the sky.

They were both snarling and slavering at each other, pupils wide and claws bared. In full view of everyone in Ishgard, as their game was not a stealthy one, Oma’ya leaned down and brushed his elongated incisors against Estinien’s pulse point, inhaling past the odor of sweat and blood and revelling in the stench of fear curling around the musk of arousal. Estinien arched up into Oma’ya’s more solidly built body before going limp and laying there, panting harshly, face flushed, his wrists pinned by Oma’ya’s clawed hands. The Warrior was shorter than he, but far more powerfully built. 

From there it was a simple matter to drag the crimson dragoon back to Oma’ya’s permanent quarters in the Forgotten Knight where a tub of steaming water had already been set up. He kept his hand on Estinien’s throat, feeling the rabbit quick beating of his heart and listening to the heaving of his chest, as he stripped the man of his armor and dumped it into a pile in the corner. In the dimly lit inn room Estinien’s nudity was revealed, set aglow in a most gentle golden light. Oma’ya revelled in it, running his hands over the scars from a lifetime of skirmishes and running the broad flat of his tongue over the scaly remnants of Nidhogg’s influence. They were not unlike his own patches of black scales, proven when Estinien’s head flew back and a deep groan ripped itself from his throat. As his hand travelled further downwards, brushing over the hardening manhood and tugging lightly at the silver curls there, Oma’ya pressed an open mouthed kiss to one of Estinien’s nipples, flicking the bud with the tip of his tongue and blowing lightly on it for good measure. Estinien flinched at the strange sensation, the pleasure that lanced through him no doubt long missed. 

The hand that teased Estinien’s cock was then cupped under his sack, rolling it back and forth and gave it a light squeeze before moving on. The dragoon at that point was a mess of deep, short breaths and a full body flush, rendered nearly helpless in the clearly stronger hands of the Warrior. He might have broken free of the hand at his throat if he tried but to do so would deprive him of the delicious pleasure he was promised. 

Oma’ya gave Estinien one deep kiss, slipping his tongue teasingly into his throat and pulling away only as he stroked the tip of a finger over the tightly furled prize that was the elezen’s hole. The way those firm cheeks clenched near immediately brought a slovenly smile to his face. 

“Let’s get this cleaned up and then maybe we’ll see to filling it with more fun things, shall we?” Oma’ya breathed. His own trousers were painfully tight. He could have bent a sword with his cock, it was so hard. Estinien chased after him to claim another kiss. 

“If you continue like this I might just have to stay filthy more often,” he replied. 

The water was only slightly cooled but the both of them were used to colder baths than that, if any in Estinien’s case, and it was no hardship to climb in together. The speed with which Oma’ya doffed his armor could have set records across Eorzea. 

Oma’ya selected a bath salt that smelled of honey and orange blossom. It frothed well and hid exactly how murky the water became from the sheer amount of dirt that was sloughed off Estinien’s body. He scrubbed hard, taking more liberties than necessary to squeeze his lover’s firm musculature and pushed his own chest out to be touched in turn. They shared deep kisses as they washed one another and each stroked the other to a warm hardness under the water. That was where the tenderness ended, as Estinien seemed to remember his feral disposition and the haze of civility disappeared. He nearly leapt out of the tub when he realized exactly how close to being fully bathed he’d gotten. 

But the Warrior was having none of that and he bodily hauled Estinien back to the water, uncaring of the deep indents his claws left in the other man’s hips. Estinien was back to snarling and thrashing, splashing water all over the place and Oma’ya had to fist a hand in his hair to pull his head back like a prized dressage chocobo. Estinien swallowed thickly and Oma’ya’s eyes were drawn to the bobbing of his throat, now clean and inviting. He manhandled the taller elezen to straddle him and rammed two fingers up that hole left slick with soap. Oma’ya was rough with his ministrations, sparing no thought for the comfort of the man on top of him, though from the peeks he got through the suds of Estinien’s manhood, his lover liked it that way. 

The tight heat that swallowed his cock almost immediately when he slid it drew a long hiss from Oma’ya. He grabbed hold of Estinien’s flank with his free hand and yanked him down until his tight ass rested entirely on Oma’ya’s hips, bottoming out with a groan. Estinien’s mouth fell slack and he leaned back, bracing his hands on Oma’ya’s thighs and inadvertently showing off his glistening, hard nipples as he tried to adjust to the stretch. Oma’ya leaned forward and took a nipple between his teeth, using it to drag Estinien closer to him until they were chest to chest. He wasted no time slamming his hips upwards hard enough to bodily move Estinien up and down with each thrust, busying his hands with scrubbing the man’s silver hair and leaving a pleasant ring of tooth marks around his chosen nipple. 

Estinien was for once made speechless from something other than anger, left only capable of gasping and clinging to the Warrior of Light by the shoulders, hanging on for dear life. 

“Nnngh! Do the rest of you- your dear Scions know- hah- that their precious wa-Ah!-rrior is so well versed in -nnh- in the acts of pleasure?” It was all he could do to maintain a semblance of his usual snark. 

In response Oma’ya only attacked his mouth, taking hold of that clever tongue between his teeth and pulling it from Estinien’s mouth as he continued his brutal pace, leaving nothing for Estinien to do but moan and hope the entire inn did not hear his wanton passion. The warrior kept Estinien’s tongue prisoner until the very end, even after the elezen was completely clean. Their fucking continued until the water was only lukewarm, a testament to Oma’ya’s stamina and the brevity of Estinien’s refractory period. Eventually Oma’ya’s teeth were replaced with his hand, pinching and stroking the slick muscle like a brand new toy for his perusal. His remaining hand was wrapped around Estinien’s waist, keeping him in place and forcing him to feel the full length of the cock inside him with each thrust. 

Estinien was little more than a drooling, gasping puddle of an elezen by the time Oma’ya groaned heartily and thrust up for the last time, holding himself there while he painted the inside of Estinien’s guts with his hot release. Estinien had reached his own completion multiple times and his body could only twitch with oversensitivity by the end. At the end of it all, no matter how he tried, he passed out from the exhaustion and had to be dressed and tucked into the provided inn bed. Seeing him stretched out there, so invitingly, was enough for Oma’ya to discard the notion of reporting his success to Aymeric and the committee and instead curl up next to him, relishing the subtle scent of orange blossom and honey.


End file.
